


Practice Makes Perfect

by edibleflowers



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3117467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Steve are sent on an undercover mission together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice Makes Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lemniskate67](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemniskate67/gifts).



> lemniskate67 gave me the prompt for this fic to help me kickstart my writing again. It's for her, of course. Happy birthday, my dear. =)
> 
> Takes place shortly after _The Avengers_.

"Wanna get married?" Clint says teasingly, offering the box with the ring in it to Steve; he's already put his own on, the plain gold band snug on the fourth finger of his left hand. Steve gives him a look somewhere between annoyed and exasperated and takes the box, sliding his own ring on without ceremony.

"Hey," Clint says, but Steve's already bending to pick up his bag so that they can head to the waiting transport plane. Sighing, Clint grabs his own bag to follow him.

He doesn't get why Steve seems so upset; then again, it's not as if they've had a lot of time to spend together between his abrupt return to himself, the Battle of New York, and the few weeks since. After the battle, SHIELD recalled Clint -- Natasha too (although she insisted on them getting a week alone, somewhere private, where he could finish getting Loki out of his head and she could watch him for any relapses) -- and not long after, Steve turned up, apparently ready to join up with Fury's organization. Made sense to Clint; Steve was a soldier, used to being part of a group, to the chain of command, to missions and order and all that good stuff. At the same time, SHIELD gave one a certain amount of flexibility in the missions you could choose to accept and in how you carried them out; after all, that was how Clint had brought Natasha into the fold instead of killing her as ordered.

They're settled on the plane and well into the flight before Clint leans across the aisle and taps Steve's armrest. "Hey," he says, and this time Steve glances over at him. "You wanna talk? Tell me what's wrong, maybe?"

"Why would anything be wrong?" Though Steve's giving him a straightforward look, Clint hears a little reluctance in Steve's tone.

"I don't know, because you're getting sent off on an undercover mission with a guy you hardly know and we have to play married?" Clint gives Steve a brief, wry smile. "Especially when, for all I know, you're straight as a board?"

"I'm fine with it," Steve says briefly, looking away. Clint sighs.

"I know you are, or you woulda turned it down. Come on, man." He turns more in his seat so he's facing Steve. "Please. If we're going to do this right, we need to be on speaking terms."

Steve finally seems to give in a little, because he turns so that he can face Clint a bit more. "I'm sorry," he says. "You're right. I didn't mean to be -- petulant, or however it sounded. It's just still a little awkward, you got that part right."

Clint nods. "And it won't take anything but time to get past that. I can tell you I'm over the Loki thing until I'm blue in the face, but you have to learn to trust me."

"That, yeah." Steve gives an absent shrug, already dismissing it. "I know. I'm not worried about that."

"So it's the playing gay part," Clint says. Steve's eyes find his all at once, and Clint sucks in a breath. That is the bluest shade of blue that ever blued. He tries to remember what he was talking about and somehow dredges up the memory. "I don't know how you feel about that kind of thing, but I assure you, it'll all be strictly for show. I won't be putting any moves on you or anything."

Now Steve's head tilts just a little, confused puppy-ish. "You--you're--"

"Strictly homosexual," Clint says. "It would have come out sooner or later, us being on the same team and in SHIELD and all, but since they gave us this mission, I figure you should know." He pauses, because Steve's quiet, just taking it in. "Cap?" he asks.

"I don't care about that, either," Steve says. "Truth is, it's the being undercover part. I'm not a great liar, I don't improvise all that well unless it's in the middle of a battle. And I know this isn't supposed to take long, but even so, we'll have to be convincing for a few nights in front of other people."

Clint's genuinely surprised -- and relieved, too. He hadn't thought Captain America, protector of the helpless and defender of the needy, would be particularly prejudiced, but he also hasn't been awake that long in their modern world and a lot of attitudes have changed in the past seventy years. "OK," he says. "You want to practice some? Figure out some things, stories and such?"

"Yeah." Steve looks oddly grateful at that, and Clint feels a stab of sympathy. "That'd be fine. You've done this kind of thing before?"

"All the time. Mostly with Nat, but sometimes other agents if she's busy. She likes it 'cause she doesn't have to worry I'll come on to her." That makes Steve sort of smile, which is maybe one of the sweetest things Clint's ever seen.

"How, uh. How... physical does it get?" Steve asks, and now, Clint thinks, now, finally, they've gotten to the heart of the problem. Steve wasn't annoyed before, he was embarrassed.

"No more than hand-holding," Clint says, trying to be reassuring. "Maybe a kiss or two." It occurs to him that Steve may be somewhere in his 90s going by birthdate, but emotionally, he's still the guy he was when he hit the ice. He doesn't want to assume Steve's a virgin, but neither can he suppose Steve has much experience. "We can skip those if you're uncomfortable."

"No, we should. We should be as realistic as possible, right?" Steve's throat works briefly; he glances at Clint and then away. 

_Oh_ , Clint thinks, surprised all over again. "Steve," he starts, and he has to pause and think about what he's going to say. "You been with a guy before?"

Thank God, it jerks Steve out of the awkwardness, even though he goes red and sits up very straight in his seat. "I," he tries. "I, ahh, it's--"

"It's OK," Clint says. He wishes they knew each other even a little better because he'd like to give Steve's shoulder a reassuring squeeze or something that wouldn't be taken the wrong way. "It took me a long time to be all right with who I was."

Steve slumps back after a moment, rubbing a hand over his face, and then he gives Clint a bare smile -- little more than the corner of his mouth twitching up, but Clint will take it right now. "You've got no idea, man. I think you're the first person who knows, at least in this century. And I--it's not like I spread it around before, either."

Clint's read his history books; he's seen the good movies about Captain America (and the shitty ones, too). He can make an educated guess. This time he does reach over for a gentle squeeze of Steve's shoulder. "I get it. I, uh, for what it's worth, I won't share with anyone. Not even Natasha. It's yours to tell, if and when you're ready."

Steve's smile is a little less tense now. "Thanks," he says, dry. "Uh, and I guess I should clarify for the record, I'm into both. Men and women." His voice has lowered so they won't be overheard, even though the pilots are behind a closed door and there's no attendant on the flight. "You asked, though, if I'd--" Clint nods hastily, and Steve, still bright red, goes on, "Only a few times. Enough, I mean. I'm OK with kissing, is what I'm trying to get at."

Clint feels the moisture disappear from his mouth. Suddenly he's not so sure he's going to be that all right with kissing. Or just kissing, rather. "Good to know," he manages. 

Steve's look is odd now, the blush fading, and he tilts his head. "Are you--"

"More than OK with it," Clint says. He manages a wry chuckle. "Just needed a moment there."

"Anyway," Steve goes on, his voice steadier now, "we should figure this out, right? How we met, stuff like that? I mean, not that it'll probably come up, but it's still important to have some details covered."

Grateful for Steve's diversion, Clint nods, and they occupy themselves for the remainder of the flight with their cover stories.

* * *

The hotel room is less than impressive, but Clint doesn't care. As long as there are beds and a toilet and shower, he'll survive. There's only one problem, though, which they find as soon as they get into the room.

"There were supposed to be two beds," Steve says. "Wasn't that what they said?"

Clint, for his part, takes a moment to appreciate the flipping enormous (but lone) bed that takes up most of the space in the bedroom proper. "This trip was pretty last minute," he says after a moment, dropping his bag and letting the door close behind them. "Hotel might not have any other rooms."

He can see Steve warring between wanting to complain and being well aware of how it'll look and sound if he does. "Could be worse," Steve says at last, and goes to the far side of the bed, putting his bag down by the foot as he does. "At least there's plenty of room for both of us."

Relieved, Clint nods, following him to sit on the other side of the bed. "And we've got the night to relax. Get into character for tomorrow."

"Right. Practice kissing or something." Steve sounds both amused and acerbic, and as he sits, Clint turns toward him, an eyebrow raised.

"You make it sound like such a chore," he comments. "I know I'm not the prettiest face around, but--"

"I think I can handle it."

"Yeah?" Clint's tone grows challenging, a chuckle hidden under it. "Show me, then. You remember how to kiss, right?"

"I remember," Steve says, only this time his voice is low and hot, and when Clint looks up Steve's right there, in his space, nudging his knees apart to stand between them. Clint has a moment to think _what did I just let myself in for_ and then Steve's hands are bracketing his face, Steve's mouth is on his, and it's warm and sweet and his hands find Steve's hips blindly and a helpless little sound comes out of his mouth.

"That work for you?" he says at the end of it. Their mouths are still close together. Clint blinks dazedly up at him.

"Was that for practice or -- or show--" 

"It's because I wanted to kiss you since the plane," Steve mutters. Clint grabs Steve around the waist and drags him down to the bed, getting an unexpected laugh out of him. Already he's looking forward to the rest of this assignment.


End file.
